connection is beyond physical

Everything in life has so much meaning that it makes my head spin. All of the connections we form, whether physical, chemical, or emotional, are based off of tiny electrical reactions that ignite our minds and bodies and souls. The attractions that we feel are intentional sparks of life flaring off at every moment of our lives. This theory is what I love most about chemistry. The idea that science and love are so intrinsically bound, their own little connection in a frighteningly large universe. The every day connections that I make with people at UT are stunning in themselves. The thing is- these connections are all random, yet all mediated by the biochemical reactions that exist within the tiniest parts of our cells. 

Years ago, I wrote a poem titled "I am an internal Combustion machine". What are the odds? Even with a minimal understanding of chemistry, at the age of 17, I knew that the uncontrollable reactions within my body were triggered by a spark, a flame, even at the most minute level. That poem still speaks to me, because on a metaphysical level, I still feel like an internal combustion machine. I feel myself yearning to burst into flames, to take all those tiny reactions and spur one big reaction that gives me the most energy and the biggest high. Isn't that all our body wants? Out of practicality, we break down those energy producing reactions into small steps, but what our body really wants is to go as fast as possible. 

I started my college journey with the intention of expanding myself and my mind. Making those connections between seemingly unrelated subjects, pushing my mind to understand beyond the written word, and control my physicality by training it to endure the most challenging course. I think a part of me is always going to be that sad human overwhelmed by the intensity of life. I don't fear it anymore. My sensitivity is a strength, but any strength comes with a 1% weakness (an Achilles' heel) that occasionally pounds at its possessor. 

Why do I feel the urge to write? My urge to write stems from the sentences flowing mindlessly through my head, going from one neuron to another, refusing to leave me alone until I type or write them out. And I acquiesce; it's better that way. We are born with a desire to make those scientific connections on a physical level. Humans from thousands of years ago have painted their lives onto the walls of caves, intent on carrying out a legacy that we still pass on to this day. I feel the urge to mediate the disorder in my mind, to explain my stance and how I am handling it. The sentences flowing through my head chase after me, tangling like molecules that crash into each other, binding into a cohesive mess that only I can sort out. Before the tangle of sentences becomes too large and frightening, I have to write it out. I have to explain myself to myself, because I am fueled by chemical reactions triggered by other reactions, leading me to this place, this time, where I analyze myself to determine the catalyst for this chain of events. 

There is always a catalyst. And I am more scientific than I ever knew. I love to analyze. And I love these connections. Because they allow me to love and to breathe and to understand that life is intrinsically beautiful, beyond the mess and the byproducts. We are given a capacity to appreciate our lives and our emotions through a biochemical spark. It's amazing.